


The Tune Without the Words

by AuroraNova



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen, M/M, Mother-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 09:24:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18258449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraNova/pseuds/AuroraNova
Summary: Amsha made mistakes as a mother, and she's paid for them. Through years of heartache, she never gives up hope that one day Julian will give her a place in his life.





	The Tune Without the Words

**Author's Note:**

> Something very different from my usual style.  
> Title is taken from Emily Dickinson's "Hope is the thing with feathers."

Amsha was the first to admit she hadn’t been a perfect mother.

She’d agreed to her husband’s suggestion that they have their son’s genes resequenced purely out of love, to be sure. Young Jules tried so hard, cried so often when he couldn’t do what he wanted and when the other children teased him. She yearned more than anything to take away his pain and struggles, and even years later wouldn’t say it had been the wrong decision. Maybe it had been, maybe it hadn’t, but she knew, going on the information she had at the time, she’d choose the resequencing all over.

The first time Jules wrote his name, Amsha had to excuse herself so she could cry in relief. Instead of working so hard only to fail over and over again, he was now proudly demonstrating his accomplishments. What mother wouldn’t want that for her son?

Where she and Richard had definitely erred was their mishandling of the revelation when it became apparent Jules had to know about the resequencing so he could be careful. They were so used to it being a secret, and on Amsha’s part still carrying guilt because perhaps her son’s difficulties had been her fault somehow, they never talked about why they’d done it. They let him spend years thinking he hadn’t been good enough before Adigeon Prime.

She would never forgive herself for that.

He left home for Starfleet Academy and never came back for a visit. He never wrote, didn’t even invite them to his graduation. Amsha went anyway, just to see him. Richard stayed home, claiming he knew when he wasn’t wanted. Years passed without so much as a single letter. Amsha didn’t even know how to contact her son. She found out from a neighbor that he had been nominated for a Carrington Award.

Naturally, they leapt at Dr. Zimmerman’s invitation to Deep Space Nine. So that was where Jules had ended up. The whole affair was a mess, but Amsha got to see her son, had an opportunity to explain her motivations for Adigeon Prime, and he’d let her hug him.

After years of estrangement, once everything was out in the open, Julian wrote two letters which Amsha treasured more than any amount of latinum. He still had many years of pain, but he was willing to be in touch with her. Richard, in prison, received a letter as well.

Then the Dominion War started.

In two years, Amsha heard from her son five times, and only one of those was a message of any length. He spent months out there in battle and she received nothing after _Hello Mother, As you may have heard, we were forced to evacuate DS9. I am aboard the_ Defiant _and this is my comm code until further notice._

She searched every casualty report, praying to a god she wasn’t sure she believed in that she wouldn’t find Julian’s name on it, or if she did, that he would be under ‘Wounded’ and not ‘Killed in Action’ or ‘Missing.’ When she couldn’t sleep for worry, she didn’t even have her husband to turn to; Richard spent most of the war in prison. She wrote to her son, long rambling letters she edited and even then only sent one time out of five for fear of pushing him away again, and wondered when he’d reply.

Finally, she got another note from Julian. _Hello Mother, Operation Return was a success. You may resume using my station comm code. A Vorta lived in my quarters and apparently collected bits of rubbish, to say nothing of the abysmal state of the infirmary. DS9 is a mess, but it’s ours again._

The longest four months of Amsha’s life passed between those messages.

It was slightly better once Julian was back on the station, but the _Defiant_ still went into battle and Amsha therefore still spent many night staring out the window at the stars in the direction of Deep Space Nine.

Her work suffered. It was hard to create charming illustrations for children’s books while wondering if her son was alive. Once her publisher asked her to work on a book about a child whose father was away at war, and she had to decline because she couldn’t be reassuring enough. Anything related to war she tried to sketch came out too frightening, straight from the scared corner of her own soul.

Richard came home, more withdrawn and defensive than he used to be, and the fighting continued to rage.

When the war ended, she thought she could relax. Starfleet was never the safest career choice, but Julian was a doctor, which was less risky, and he was no longer flying into battle. Everything was bound to get better. Julian wrote twice in three months, which was promising, and if she didn’t entirely understand what he was studying about the impact of transporter technology on virus replication, that was fine. She was just happy he had time to get back to research instead of war injuries, and he told her what he was doing.

She started thinking how to word a request to visit in person. Julian had to get leave. If he didn’t want to come to Earth, she and Richard could go to DS9, or anywhere else Julian cared to meet.

His next letter, another short one, quashed that idea. _I’m leaving for Cardassia in two days. I’ll be there six months as part of the Federation relief effort, and will be in touch with my comm code when I know it._

He’d gone from a war to a disaster zone. Richard muttered about Cardassians having earned everything they got and not deserving Julian’s help, which may even have been true but wasn’t their decision to make. Amsha sighed and waited to hear from Julian again.

Several weeks later, she did. _Don’t be alarmed by any reports you read about Cardassia. I’m not in any danger of starving. I have a large supply of ration bars, and while the lack of variety isn’t my first choice, my caloric and nutritional needs are being met._

Amsha asked for his address so she could send him a care package. Julian insisted it wasn’t necessary, but she sent one anyway, then another, and another. It helped her feel closer to him, and since Julian started writing on something approaching a regular basis, she thought the physical reminders of her love were good for him. His letters were never long, but at least they told her what he was doing.

There weren’t many Federation volunteers on Cardassia. Most people shared Richard’s view, and so many Federation worlds needed relief teams of their own. Anyway, Julian never could turn away from someone in need, so it wasn’t a surprise when he extended his time on Cardassia by another six months.

Richard thought this was a waste of Julian’s talent. Amsha wasn’t so sure. It didn’t matter, because this was Julian’s life and career. She sent more care packages and looked forward to every note from her son. If nothing else, he wasn’t charging into battles and he wrote her almost monthly.

As they approached the end of Julian’s year on Cardassia, Amsha thought once more about suggesting a visit. He hadn’t said if he was returning to Deep Space Nine or taking a new post, but she would go anywhere to see him. Then the fateful letter arrived.

_Hello Mother, Father,_

_I have decided to leave Starfleet and stay on Cardassia permanently. This will probably come as a shock to you, but I’ve been considering it for months._

_I’d say I’ve met someone here, but that’s not exactly true. Elim was my first friend on the station, though our relationship never moved beyond friendship until I came to Cardassia. (He worked with us during the war, if you’re wondering.) So this isn’t as rash a decision as it might appear at first glance, and despite all the hardships of life in a disaster zone, I am happy here._

That was all. Not even his name at the end, just a greeting and two short paragraphs to notify them he never planned to move home, even home defined as broadly as the Federation at large.

And yet… he said he was happy. Who was Amsha to argue with that?

Richard disagreed. “I didn’t spend two years rotting in prison so he could throw everything away!” he snapped, followed by every synonym for ungrateful he knew. Amsha broke the computer, hoping he’d calm down before sending his reply and driving Julian away again.

He didn’t. Two days later, the computer was fixed and Richard fired off an irate letter. Amsha was forced to confront a terrifying idea: she and her husband may have had very different motivations for taking their boy to Adigeon Prime. Julian might have been right about his father all along.

Maybe Jules hadn’t been good enough for Richard. Maybe Julian could never live up to the impossible standards Richard dreamt up to justify his time in prison.

Amsha could hardly make sense of her husband, but she knew two things: she wanted her son to be happy, and she had no right to dictate his life. So sent her own letter of love and support. _All I’ve ever wanted for you was happiness, Julian. If you’ve found it on Cardassia with Elim, then I am pleased. It’s a surprise to be sure, but many of the best things in life are._

Then she went to stay with her sister, because she couldn’t bear to be in the same house as Richard and his selfish anger.

Julian didn’t write for six weeks. Amsha broke the silence with another letter.

_Dear Julian,_

_I am writing from your Aunt Aya’s, where I’ve been staying. I say this not to burden you, but to explain. Your father’s reaction to your last letter made me question everything, including why he suggested the resequencing in the first place. I agreed because I love you and I couldn’t bear to see you struggle so. And yes, because I was afraid it was my fault, but only because I wanted the best for you. I wanted you to be happy, not sobbing over the cruel remarks of the other children. Maybe we were wrong not to give you a chance, but I was never ashamed of you. I loved you then and I will always love you, no matter what choices you make for your life._

_I thought your father felt the same. Now I wonder if I attributed my reasons to him because it was easier than facing his flaws. It sounds so ridiculous to say I didn’t know, but that’s the truth._

_You don’t owe him a Starfleet career, Julian. You don’t owe us anything._

_I am so sorry for the ways I’ve been blind._

_Love,_

_Mother_

She spent the next two weeks checking her messages constantly.

Richard came to see her, but he refused to see that Julian’s life wasn’t his to live. “Two years of my life in prison so he could keep his career!” he said. “If resigning to live with some Cardie isn’t ungrateful, I don’t know what is.”

“Julian spent those years in Starfleet. Maybe he wouldn’t have found this happiness without it,” reasoned Amsha. “And remember, he discovered the cure for the Changeling disease. That helped win the war, so your sacrifice wasn’t for nothing, if you need to see it that way. But it doesn’t matter. It’s his life.”

“All those gifts, all the sacrifices we made for him, and he doesn’t care!” said Richard, stubborn as ever.

She wanted so badly for her husband to see that he was wrong. He didn’t, and Amsha refused to go home with him. She picked up a few possessions she wanted one day while he was at work and waited to hear from Julian.

Finally, nearly two months after his last letter, she did.

_Hello Mother,_

_My previous letter was cut off due to ongoing issues with the communications network. I had written much more, including an explanation of the many limitations on my Starfleet career. You can find the original text below, but in short, Starfleet acts as though they’re doing me a favor by letting me remain and therefore expects me to be grateful and not question the ways they treat me as a lesser person. Captain Sisko’s advocacy extended further than we realized at the time, a fact for which I intend to thank him if he ever returns to the linear plane._

_I can stay on DS9 as long as I like, but I won’t be promoted in rank and any new posting would be an effective demotion. Additionally, I’ve been having a great deal of difficulty having my papers published. Not one has been accepted since my genetic status was revealed, though admittedly I wasn’t submitting many during the war._

_The decision to stay on Cardassia with Elim was therefore an easy one. Cardassians rarely embrace genetic engineering for philosophical reasons (they prize biological family and don’t care to alter the genes they pass on) but it is a considered a private matter and my status has no social or professional consequences. After the freedom from judgment I’ve enjoyed here, it would be difficult to return to Starfleet, where they’ll always be watching me for any hints of megalomania. Combine that with a relationship which brings me much happiness, and the choice was obvious._

_I’m gratified to have your support. Considering his last tirade, I am no longer interested in maintaining any correspondence or relationship with Father, nor do I wish to hear about him should you reconcile. I will not ask you to keep the contents of my letters from him, solely out of fairness to you._

_Give Aunt Aya my regards._

_Julian_

“Oh, Julian,” Amsha whispered to the computer screen.

She downloaded the rest of the original letter to a padd and went to see Richard.

“Well, if he’d told us sooner…” Richard began.

“If we hadn’t let our relationship with our son deteriorate as badly as it did, maybe he would have. We are not blameless, Richard.”

“And he’s just going to let Starfleet get away with this?”

“Never mind that. You have a bigger problem, which is that Julian may never forgive you.”

But Richard refused to see. He wanted to blame Julian for not mentioning his difficulties earlier, Starfleet for blocking Julian’s career progress, the communications network for dropping three-quarters of the letter – anyone but himself, anything other than his own need to have an accomplished son whatever the cost.

Amsha stood in the place she’d called home for decades, in front of the man to whom she’d been married for thirty-nine years, and realized while part of her still loved him, she didn’t like him anymore. Not once she’d seen how little he actually cared for Julian.

She went back to Aya’s and cried. In an attempt to take her mind off the situation, she made four batches of homemade marmalade, and shipped a large box of it to Julian. Then she dove into her work so she could spend hours at a time forgetting.

Another two months passed. Julian officially resigned his commission, and felt overall Starfleet was glad to see him go. He went back to writing monthly. His Elim loved the marmalade, so Amsha made more for them.

She moved into her own apartment, one close to her sister’s place with a studio for her art. Richard asked if she was ever coming home. She told him she didn’t know. He asked about Julian, and she said, “He’s happy, he’s in love and nobody cares about his enhancements. Did you ever apologize?”

Richard claimed he had, but the next sentence out of his mouth included the phrase “can’t blame me for assuming,” and Amsha knew with certainty that Julian would never speak to him again. Instead of a sharp, shocking pain, this now came as a dull, inevitable ache.

Julian sent a picture of a sunset he took from a hill overlooking Cardassia City. Amsha put it in a holoframe and hung it on her living room wall.

Finally, almost four years since she’d last seen him, Julian wrote the words she’d been waiting for.

_Hello Mother,_

_How do you feel about a visit to Cardassia?_

She started a mental packing list before she even read any further.

_Elim and I have decided to get married. The institution isn’t especially significant to me, but it is in Cardassian culture, and furthermore will make the immigration process much easier. As we intend to spend the rest of our lives together, it’s the obvious thing to do._

_It will be a very simple affair in three months’ time. We would like it if you’re able to be here, however, I understand if it’s too far._

_Julian_

Too far? Amsha would’ve gone to the Gamma Quadrant to see him, never mind attend his wedding.

Twenty-one years earlier, she hadn’t understood how badly she hurt Julian by letting him think she’d been ashamed of him before the genetic resequencing. She’d never give up hope, even though more than half of that time had been spent in total estrangement, that someday she could have a good relationship with her son again. Now he was getting married, and he wanted her there for the occasion. As she had all those years ago when he first wrote his name, Amsha cried with happiness and relief.

They wrote back and forth more frequently to work out the details of her trip. It would take her over three weeks just to get the Deep Space Nine on four different transports. From there, she’d join Julian’s friends on a runabout to Cardassia.

She packed an entire case of just-add-water scone mix for Julian, along with marmalade and three other varieties of homemade jam. As she was organizing all her luggage, Richard stopped by.

“Going somewhere?” he asked.

“Cardassia. For Julian’s wedding.”

She watched closely for any hint of regret, and it may have been there, but so fleetingly as to be meaningless, assuming she hadn’t imagined it in the first place. “He’s really done it, then,” said Richard.

“Yes.”

“Guess he didn’t accept my apology.”

“Was it an apology, or an excuse?” asked Amsha, suspecting the latter.

Richard huffed defensively. “Are you ever coming home, or are we over?” That prospect, at least, saddened him. However flawed he was, he loved her.

She loved him, too, but wasn’t sure it was enough to save their relationship. Not when she couldn’t respect how he handled anything with Julian. Not while she was still trying to figure out if his entire parenting philosophy was based on raising a son about whom he could brag.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ll come over when I get back, and we can talk.”

He didn’t like it, but he nodded. “Have a safe trip,” he said. “Give Julian my congratulations.”

“I can’t,” Amsha said. “He doesn’t want to hear anything from you.”

At the betrayed look Richard gave her, she wasn’t sure she would have a marriage left to return to even if she wanted to.

She opted to focus on the good. Aya took her shopping for a new dress to wear to Julian’s wedding.

The trip was strange, in that Richard had always taken care of details like transferring ships and which docking bay they needed to be at by what time. Amsha felt good doing it herself, and she arrived on Deep Space Nine thinking that she’d be fine as a single woman, if it came to that.

Ezri Dax met her at the airlock. Julian had explained about Jadzia, Ezri, and Dax, so Amsha didn’t embarrass herself by asking if Ezri was Jadzia’s sister. The young lieutenant helped get her crates onto the runabout, and added a few of her own.

Miles O’Brien joined them, having come from Earth on a more direct route via Starfleet ship. While adding his own bags, he grumbled that a man couldn’t get leave for a friend’s wedding without being roped into an engineering aid evaluation.

They set off with a heavily loaded runabout. The other two must’ve thought she fell asleep, because at one point O’Brien said, “For a while I thought it might be you Julian married.”

“That didn’t last a month after the war ended,” said Dax. “I think it’s always been Garak, even when it wasn’t.”

“Yeah,” agreed O’Brien. “You’re probably right. Damned if I understand the two of them, but you remember how he ran into Ops the first time he met Garak.”

“It was cute.”

“That’s one way to put it. Anyway, it’s good you two are still friends.”

“I wasn’t about to lose a friend of two lifetimes. You know, for a while Jadzia was sure Julian and Garak were going to stop flirting at lunch and go for it. In retrospect, they couldn’t have lasted then.”

Amsha was hit by the realization that she was his mother, and compared to these two people, she barely knew Julian at all. But that was slowly changing, she reminded herself. He’d been including more personal details in his letters, though they still tended to the short side, and he wanted her at his wedding.  

She would’ve liked to get more stories from Julian’s friends, but was so transport lagged she couldn’t stay awake. Next think she knew, they were entering the Cardassian system, and shortly thereafter they beamed down.

Then, at last, she stood in front of Julian again, torn between the desire to hug him and look at him. He had a few gray hairs now, and the start of lines around his eyes. He looked far more comfortable with himself than he’d been since he learned about the enhancements, which did her heart good.

Amsha went for the hug. She vaguely heard Dax say, “We’ll be back in half an hour,” but wasn’t really paying attention to anyone else.

Nothing else mattered besides Julian, the way he returned her embrace without hesitation, and his murmured, “It’s good to see you, Mother.” This was everything she’d wanted for years.

Eventually, she thought she really ought to meet the man who was about to become her son-in-law, so when Julian let go she stepped back and looked at the Cardassian smiling at them.

“I’m not sure a formal introduction is entirely necessary, but Mother, this is Elim. Elim, my mother, Amsha.”

“It’s so good to finally meet you,” said Amsha.

Elim half-nodded, half-bowed. “I am pleased you’re able to join us.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

Amsha couldn’t stop smiling. No matter that it was uncomfortably warm, or she was warp lagged, or even that Richard wasn’t with her, though that last point did hurt. This wasn’t the reunion she’d dreamed of, but that was fine, because it was a reunion. Yes, Julian was making his life on a planet light-years from Earth. The important point was, he wanted her to be part of his life again.

She had her son back.


End file.
